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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319113">Choose Your Faces Wisely</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom'>boredom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Self-Sacrifice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:09:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale is worried he may not survive the Holy Water at Crowley's trial. He's willing to take the risk anyways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Choose Your Faces Wisely</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I didn't mean for this to get so long but there was so much I wanted to say and do. Enjoy this bit of angst on a Thursday afternoon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale stared in the (quite frankly ostentatious) mirror hanging in the (quite frankly ostentatious) bathroom of Crowley’s (quite frankly ostentatious) flat. He turned his head to the left, eyes studying the skin, straining to see any mark that would reveal what they had done. Satisfied by smooth skin on the left, he turned his head to the right. He ran a hand down his throat, feeling for any marks, any signs, any dead-give-aways. </p><p> There were none. </p><p>He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back to look at his corporation in its entirety. He looked just like Crowley. He had his hair, his eyes, his body, his tattoo. There was even the slight scent of brimstone lingering around him like a cloud of perfume. His corporation was in every way a perfect match for Crowley. He swallowed and left the bathroom. </p><p>His legs were shaking and his heart was pounding. He felt light-headed and scared. He wanted to call Crowley, hear his voice, and beg for comfort he so desperately needed. Instead, he went to the living room and sat stiffly on the couch, waiting until it was time to meet up. </p><p>
  <em>Choose your faces wisely.</em>
</p><p>This had to be what Agnes meant. She was never wrong and once you know how to read her prophecies, they were relatively straight forward. Aziraphale had spent a rather long time doing nothing but reading her prophecies and managed to decipher them all relatively quickly. Therefore, it was reasonable to assume that if there was ever something he was sure about, it would be the meaning of her very last prophecy. </p><p>And he was sure about it! </p><p>At least, he was sure about it in terms of what it meant for Crowley. </p><p>Crowley was still a demon. His essence, his being, it had not changed. This wasn’t a surprise. There had never been a demon who had risen and even if there were, stopping Armageddon and the Great Plan certainly wasn’t going to get you a ticket back into Heaven. But stopping Armageddon and the Great Plan might be enough to get an angel kicked out of Heaven. </p><p>He took a shaky inhale and ran a hand down his face. The last-ditch attempt to stop Armageddon by invoking the ineffable plan had been an effort he pulled from his ass at the last minute. He had no idea if this is what God wanted or desired. He had no idea if he was even still an angel. True, he didn’t Fall, but he hadn’t been there when the Fallen had…well, fallen. He didn’t know if it was a physical fall or more of a metaphorical thing. He didn’t know if it hurt or if there was any indication that he was now a demon. The night before, he had frantically pulled his wings out from the metaphysical plane and inspected them for any changes, any discolorations that would indicate his new status as not being an angel. They were still white. </p><p>He almost relaxed, until he remembered that no two angel’s wings are the same so it would stand to reason that no two demon’s wings would be the same. He had only ever seen Crowley’s so maybe Hastur had baby blue wings. Maybe Beelzebub had hot pink. Going off of wing color alone was not enough to tell if he was a demon or not. </p><p>He took a deep breath and tried to get a handle on his nerves. Crowley wouldn’t be nervous. Crowley would be calm, crack jokes, walk with a certain swagger. </p><p>Crowley was still a demon. He was safe from the hellfire. </p><p>Aziraphale may not be an angel. Therefore, he may not be safe from the Holy Water. </p><p>He wanted to tell Crowley about his worries. Crowley was so good at helping him calm down and easing his anxieties. He couldn’t, though. If there was even one chance he might be killed by this bait-and-switch, Crowley would have stopped the whole plan. </p><p>He was picking at the hem of his jacket now, desperate for some sort of stimulus that would calm him. He might not be an angel anymore, which meant that he might die today. </p><p>He had a vision, Crowley sitting on the bench in St. James Park waiting for Aziraphale. Day would turn to night and he would get so worried, not knowing what had happened to Aziraphale. It would be cruel to let him sit there and suffer. </p><p>If he did die, he needed to let Crowley know so he could move on with his life and enjoy Earth. After all, they saved Earth so they could enjoy it. </p><p>He got up and went to Crowley’s (quite frankly ostentatious) writing desk and sat down. </p><p>His hands, which had been shaking, were now strangely calm. He stared at the paper for a moment, struggling to think of what to say. He wanted the letter to be comforting. He wanted Crowley to feel his love and move on with his life should the worst pass. How did one convey that? He supposed he might as well start a draft, from the heart. He could always edit it later. </p><p>He put pen to paper and started writing. </p><p>
  <em>My dearest Crowley, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you are reading this, it means the plan only partially worked. You see, I don’t know if I’m an angel anymore, therefore I cannot guarantee my immunity to Holy Water the same way you can guarantee your immunity to Hellfire. I am terribly sorry to have to tell you this in a letter. I wish there was another way, my dear, but I know you would never have agreed to the plan if you thought I was in danger. You’re very dashing and heroic that way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it is my turn to be heroic.  It is my turn to protect you. I know you will survive the Hellfire and then they’ll leave you alone. If you didn’t go up to Heaven, they would continue to hunt us down for eternity. They would follow us wherever we went and we would never be safe, never be able to relax, and enjoy the world we fought so hard to keep. This is why I am willing to risk my life to protect yours. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You will probably be very angry when you read this. I do not blame you in the slightest. But I will not change my mind nor my actions. I love you, darling, and I will do anything to keep you alive. I’d rather you despise me for my sacrifice than live one second without your existence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please, darling, please do not shut yourself off from the world after reading this letter. I want you to enjoy your life. I want you to go off to the stars, explore the world, and do whatever you like now that you don’t have to report to Hell. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am so very sorry you have to go through this, but there is no other way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Aziraphale </em>
</p><p>He sat back and read through the letter several times. There were tears in his eyes. This could very well be his last hour on Earth, and he couldn’t do any of the things he wanted to do. He would have wanted to go to the Ritz with Crowley, drink his favorite wines, and stop by his favorite bakeries before going back to his bookshop and reading his favorite novels. Instead, he was in an unfamiliar flat without any of his books. In an hour, he would be meeting Crowley at the Park and they would probably be captured immediately. He would have to meet with Crowley and pretend everything was okay. He would have to keep up the appearance of <em>being</em> Crowley because if anyone caught wind of what they were planning, the whole thing would collapse. </p><p>Then he would die, alone in Hell surrounded by suffering and hate. The last thing he would see would be Crowley getting dragged up to Heaven. </p><p>He didn’t want that. He didn’t want any of it. </p><p>He wiped the tears from his eyes and pulled himself together. He was a principality, guardian of the Eastern Gate, and Humanity. He would continue protecting all of God’s creatures, great and small, and that included Crowley. </p><p>He snapped his fingers, the letter vanishing. It would only appear on the desk if Crowley’s corporation was injured. </p><p>He checked his watch. It was time to go. </p><p>With one last, deep breath, he walked out the door. </p><p>Three Months Later</p><p>Crowley was having the time of his life. He and Aziraphale were doing something almost every day of the week. There were dinners out, theater performances, museums, a few concerts, the works. They were growing closer. Aziraphale was getting more tactile. He was occasionally holding Crowley’s hand, giving him brief hugs when they greeted one another, and last week had pecked Crowley on the cheek. The kiss had been so brief, Crowley feared he had hallucinated it. Looking at Aziraphale’s bright red face, however, gave him solid proof that he had been kissed. </p><p>He didn’t want to initiate anything, not yet. He wanted to take things slow, do this right. Aziraphale was much better, much less anxious, and much more open. But Heaven’s abuse had left its mark on him and there was still a lot he needed to get over. </p><p>Still, once Aziraphale held his hand for the first time, Crowley started holding his more often. He always kept an eye on Aziraphale and made sure to let go whenever he seemed to be getting uncomfortable (this tended to happen when they were out in public and in plain view of others). Now that Aziraphale had kissed him, Crowley thought it would be okay to briefly peck him on the cheek as well, only in the Bookshop and only out of view of humans. </p><p>Things were moving slowly, but they were moving and that was all he ever wanted. </p><p>Today, he had arranged a special treat. Aziraphale had expressed interest in going on a picnic. Crowley was going to deliver the best damn picnic he had ever seen! He had spent weeks researching perfect picnic foods. He had ordered the best picnic basket and blanket. He had picked out the perfect picnic spot. Even the weather today decided to cooperate and was an unusually warm and sunny November day. </p><p>Crowley was just putting the finishing touches on the picnic basket when he accidentally knocked over one of the champagne flutes. </p><p>“Shit,” he muttered as the glass shattered into a million pieces on the ground. He bent down to pick it up, accidentally slicing his thumb on the glass. Blood oozed from the wound and he cursed once more and stuck it in his mouth. Why didn’t he just miracle it back together? Because he was a bloody idiot who had been spending too much time acting like a human, that was why. </p><p>He snapped his fingers and the champagne flute was whole again. </p><p>He snapped once more, the rest of the picnic basket assembling into an aesthetically pleasing image. He took a picture, posted it to Instagram (he needed to make people feel bad they weren’t picnicking on a nice day and were instead stuck in a grey office getting yelled at by their boss) and walked out the door. </p><p>Aziraphale’s face lit up once he saw the basket in Crowley’s hand. That alone was worth the thousands of pounds he had spent on this little excursion (Aziraphale had standards and Crowley would do anything to meet them). </p><p>“Oh, dear, this is so wonderful,” he said, almost in awe. </p><p>Crowley hazarded a cheek kiss. “Don’t mention it. You said you wanted to go on a picnic so I threw this together.” </p><p>Aziraphale’s fingers brushed the spot he had kissed. He was smiling and blushing. Thank someone, Crowley did not want to ruin it this early in the day. </p><p>“Shall we?” He offered his arm to Aziraphale. </p><p>“We shall.” He took it and they walked out of the bookshop together. </p><p>The picnic itself was perfect. The food stayed at the perfect temperature. The champagne bubbles danced on his tongue. Aziraphale rested a hand on Crowley’s knee at several points. They spent hours on their little blanket, laughing and swapping stories and memories. Crowley was glad he had his glasses on. Anyone who looked their way would see hearts in his eyes. Even though he was no longer employed by Hell, he still had a reputation to uphold. </p><p>Aziraphale also seemed relaxed, more so than Crowley had ever seen him. He was openly affectionate. He wiped away some crumbs that clung to the corner of Crowley’s mouth. He laughed loudly at Crowley’s jokes. He leaned against him more than once. He even kissed Crowley’s cheek again. </p><p>He was in… well, not Heaven since it was a cold and desolate place, but somewhere that was perfect and that he never wanted to leave. </p><p>“It’s getting late, my dear,” Aziraphale said. He was looking down at his hands, clearly nervous. “Should we retire to the bookshop?” </p><p>Maybe he had pushed too far and now Aziraphale was overwhelmed. “Sure, angel. I’ll take you back.” He offered his hand and Aziraphale took it. </p><p>Crowley was nervous. Aziraphale still seemed calm, but he was fidgeting. Something was up. It wasn’t until he got to the bookshop he figured out what it was. </p><p>“Um, do you want to come inside?” Aziraphale asked as the Bentley idled in front. </p><p>Good, that meant whatever it was wasn’t enough to kick Crowley to the curb. </p><p>“Sure.” </p><p>They were barely inside when Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s lips. It was clumsy and a bit too forceful, almost as if he wanted to get it over with before he lost his nerve. It was also over much too quickly. </p><p>Crowley was shocked. They had only exchanged like three cheek kisses! Now they were kissing on the lips? Who was this person standing in front of him? </p><p>Aziraphale bit his lip and stared at the floor. “Sorry, was that too much?” </p><p>Crowley snapped out of his shock. Right, yeah, Aziraphale had kissed him and he had stood there like an idiot. He stepped forward and slid his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, tilting his gaze so he was staring at him instead of the floor. </p><p>“Angel, you are full of surprises.” He leaned down and kissed him, softly, just the barest of pressure. He didn’t know what brought this on and didn’t want to go too fast. </p><p>They pulled back.</p><p>“Oh, that was lovely,” Aziraphale said, looking slightly dazed. He leaned forward and kissed him again. </p><p>Maybe Crowley had died and gone to Heaven because this was everything he had ever wanted. When Aziraphale pulled back, Crowley took his hand and led him to the couch in the back room. </p><p>“Um, Crowley…” </p><p>He felt Aziraphale’s hand squeeze his. </p><p>“Um, I’m not really ready for… that is to say…” </p><p>Crowley turned to him and smiled. “Don’t worry, angel. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I just didn’t want to stand in the doorway for the entire evening. Thought we would be more comfortable here.” He sat down and pulled Aziraphale with him, tucking him underneath his arm and holding him close. </p><p>Aziraphale was tense for a moment. </p><p>“Is this okay?” </p><p>He relaxed. “Yes, yes this is good. I like this.” He squirmed a bit until he was fully pressed up against Crowley’s side. </p><p>Crowley desperately wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to do more than that, truth be told. But he restrained himself. It was Aziraphale’s speed or nothing. Aziraphale wanted to go slower than him so it was up to Aziraphale to take charge and lead the relationship at a speed he was comfortable. Crowley wouldn’t push, wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t suggest. If Aziraphale wanted something, he was going to have to ask for it. </p><p>Finally, he settled down, tilted his head upwards and kissed Crowley once more. Good, he never wanted to stop kissing him. They weren’t human. They could kiss for the rest of time itself and never take a break. </p><p>They continued kissing like that for hours. It never got beyond chaste kisses. There was no making out. There was no groping. It was so chaste it made pre-teens playing spin the bottle look like downright Roman orgy levels of debauchery. And Crowley loved every minute of it. He was a master of patience and would do this forever if it meant Aziraphale would have him forever. </p><p>Sadly, it did end just as the sun was setting. Aziraphale bade him goodnight with another peck on the lips and Crowley went on his way, feeling slightly drunk from their encounter. </p><p>When he got him, he went straight to his office. He was delirious with happiness and wanted to capture this moment. There was a small room to the left of his office that held objects of significance for him. The picnic basket was going to join the room with all the other little trinkets and things he had collected over the years. Hell, at this point it was more of a museum dedicated to his relationship with Aziraphale. He should start offering guided tours.</p><p>The picnic basket was never put in the museum. </p><p>On his desk was a piece of paper that had not been there before. </p><p>It made Crowley’s blood run cold. </p><p> </p><p>oOoOoOo</p><p>Aziraphale sighed and closed the book he was reading. He just couldn’t concentrate on the tingle that refused to leave his lips. It was as if Crowley was still here, still kissing him. </p><p>He blushed. He couldn’t believe he had done that. He couldn’t believe he was so bold. It wasn’t something he planned, but, well, Crowley was so sweet and it felt right. Things were moving along in their relationship and it made him so very happy. </p><p>There was the familiar screech of tires outside his bookshop. </p><p>Aziraphale stood and went to the door, puzzled. Crowley had only been gone for less than an hour. What was he doing back here so soon? </p><p>He felt Crowley before he saw him. There was an angry, demonic energy swirling around him, strong enough that it almost knocked Aziraphale off his feet. </p><p>The door swung open and Crowley stormed in. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Aziraphale asked, slightly put out by the papers that were scattered by the wind. </p><p>Crowley stood there, seething. In his hands, there was a crumpled piece of paper. </p><p>Aziraphale furrowed his brow. “What on earth has gotten into you, my dear?” </p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” Crowley thrust the paper at Aziraphale. </p><p>He took it. His heart dropped when he recognized his handwriting and the words he had written nearly three months ago. </p><p>“Well, it hardly matters now,” he said, folding the paper and depositing it in the bin. </p><p>“Doesn’t it?” Crowley shouted. “You thought you were going to die and you didn’t tell me?” </p><p>If there had been a human (or even another occult/ethereal being in the shop), they would have been terrified by Crowley’s display. He looked demonic. He felt demonic. There was a fury like Aziraphale had never felt before. </p><p>Aziraphale was not afraid. Crowley had never hurt him and would never hurt him. He still didn’t get what the fuss was about. </p><p>“In my letter, I told you I did it to protect you. We would have still been watching our backs if we didn’t go through with the plan. It doesn’t matter now. I survived, you survived, everyone survived.” </p><p>Crowley crowded him against a bookshelf, looming over him in a way only a demon could loom. “Why didn’t you ask me if you were still an angel? I could have told you.” </p><p>“If I had asked, you would have been suspicious and you might not go through with the plan. Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale put a hand on his cheek, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to protect you.” He hated how his voice cracked and tears rushed to his eyes. </p><p>“I was scared that I’d lose you forever and I couldn’t deal with it.” </p><p>Crowley’s face softened and he returned to his more human-looking visage. “Do you think I don’t feel the same way? Do you think I really would have wanted to spend one second on Earth if you weren’t here? If you had died, I wouldn’t have drowned myself in the first vat of holy water I came across.” </p><p>Aziraphale was determined not to cry. His eyes might be watering and his throat may be tight, but he refused to let tears spill. Besides, Crowley’s admission hit him like a ton of bricks. </p><p>He turned away. “I guess even when I’m trying to be brave, I am still nothing but a coward.” He didn’t think of Crowley’s feelings. He didn’t imagine what his death would do to the poor demon. Instead, he was focused solely on himself and his feelings. He was a selfish, horrible, pathetic excuse for an angel. </p><p>“You were willing to die for me?” Crowley asked. “You were willing to go down there alone and die alone to protect me?” </p><p>He looked at him. “Yes, I was. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re so important to me. I needed you to survive because I cannot imagine a world without you.” </p><p>Crowley sighed and pressed their foreheads together. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” </p><p>He wasn’t angry anymore, but there was a bone-deep weariness that settled in the lines of his face. He looked like he was six thousand years old and had live through every atrocity the humans had to offer. </p><p>“I suppose we are.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and just felt Crowley’s presence. They were here. They were safe. They were free. </p><p>“Angel, I love you. I need you, and not in a weird, co-dependent sort of way. You have been there for me in ways no one else has. You’re not a coward. You’re not selfish. If I said you were, then I’d be a hypocrite because I would gladly and willingly take a holy water bath if it meant keeping you safe.” </p><p>Deep down, Aziraphale had always known this about Crowley. He had always known this ridiculous demon was a self-sacrificing idiot. But hearing it said out loud was different. It felt more significant than any subtle glances or pecks on the cheek ever could. </p><p>“Please, don’t lie about something like this ever again. You’re clever. I’m clever. We can figure out a way. We always have.” </p><p>Aziraphale smiled and wrapped his arms around Crowley, hugging him tightly. </p><p>“Trust me, angel,” Crowley said, squeezing him so tightly it felt like he was trying to merge their bodies together. “Please trust me.” </p><p>Aziraphale was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I trust you, Crowley.” </p><p>Despite trusting a demon since the beginning of time itself, he had never spoken such words aloud. To do so would be admitting that Heaven was not moral and just because one was a demon didn’t mean one was evil. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he added. He never meant to hurt Crowley. He had only wanted to protect him. </p><p>“You’ve already apologized,” Crowley said, burying his face in his neck and breathing deeply. </p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“So quit doing it.” </p><p>“I just want you to know how much I love you; how much I want to protect you.” </p><p>“Love you too.” His voice was soft and Aziraphale could feel the flashes of love that had become something of a regular occurrence in his life. </p><p>There was still so much they needed to say, so much they needed to do. He still feared Heaven and their rules. He still caught himself worrying about getting caught. He still needed to work on his communication. He still needed to do a lot of things. But right here, right now, this was enough. It was a step in the right direction, and that was all he needed.</p>
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